


The Once and Future King

by Gilli_ann



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, Open Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin worries about the future of Albion. King Arthur makes a promise that will resonate through the ages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Once and Future King

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Merlin and its characters belong to Shine TV and the BBC.

** The Once and Future King **

“No,” Arthur says. “No, I will not consider it. Not on your life. We won't do it.”

Merlin keeps quiet. His eyes are intent and his poise alert.

“We won't. I sense fate's cruel irony in this. My mother's life was sacrificed, - my father unknowingly ended her life in order that I might be born and continue the Pendragon dynasty. And now it turns out I myself cannot father a child.”

“Maybe it's me,” Gwen says quietly.

“It doesn't matter. We are not dabbling in magic to have an heir. Never. I will not force the hand of fate.”

“What then, Arthur? When you're old, when you're gone, who will rule? Your allies, knights and barons are loyal and brave, but I see none of them rising sufficiently high above the others in courage, strength and foresight. There's not a one among them fit to be High King of Albion. Who will rule when you can not?”

“Is that Merlin the _Seer_ I now hear speaking?”

“Yes, Arthur.” Merlin hesitates. “Yes, and no.”

He reaches out to touch Arthur's arm, his long fingers sliding gently over the sumptuous sleeve shot through with gold. Their unguarded eyes meet, and hold.

Merlin's voice is grave when he speaks again. “I have consulted the crystals many times, but I cannot see beyond your lifetime here in Camelot. The future that comes after is a blur and a mystery, nothing but smoke and mist before my eyes. I do not know what will happen.”

Arthur squares his shoulders, determined. “If there's nothing to see, we cannot dwell on intangible worries and fears. There is always hope. All we can do is continue to build this land, strengthen it, and see it prosper under the rule of law. We must trust that when the time comes, Albion will be strong enough to weather the uncertainty and dangers, to stand proudly united in shaping an even better future.”

His eyes turn sharp, his face with the firmly set jaw every inch the High King's. “I will never be part in begetting a child with the aid of magic, and that's final.”

Merlin lowers his eyes and bows his head in acceptance. “Yes, Sire.”

Gwen sighs, but there is relief in her glance that slides sideways towards the windows facing the courtyard. “I agree.”

Late afternoon sun streams through the many-coloured glass. There is noise outside, horseshoes clattering on cobblestones, the jingle of horses' tack, eager voices and the occasional shouted order. Camelot's First Knight, Lancelot, has returned after taking the new recruits out on a week-long patrol.

A small smile appears on the queen's lips, a flash of joy crossing her features and lingering in the faint blush on her cheeks. She lowers her gaze to her demurely folded hands, and twists her wedding ring.

Merlin tugs at an earlobe, thinking out loud. “There is a claimant to the throne, you know. What about Morgana?”

Arthur shrugs. “What about her? Yes, she is still out there, plotting against me – I think both she and I are so used to this endless feud by now, we wouldn't quite know what to do with ourselves without it. But she poses no real threat to the throne any more. She is older than me, and like me she has no child of her own.”

“No. Well, not exactly one of her own....”

Silence descends on the sun-warmed council chamber, its splendid interior glowing with colours and sparkling with light.

Merlin tilts his head and looks at Arthur, regarding him steadily with a small frown, his lips compressed. But he keeps his own counsel and does not resume speaking.

“Do not look so sombre and disapproving, my lord warlock.” Arthur chides.“The future will take care of itself. Surprising developments and veritable miracles do occur, events that we never dared dream of. Look at all that has happened in our lifetime alone! There's more between heaven and earth than was ever imagined in all your visions or secret tomes of sorcery. Albion will survive.”

“But if she doesn't?” Merlin persists. “If she becomes steeped in chaos and despair, and no-one comes forward to help her through her hour of utmost need, what then?

Arthur shakes his head, exasperated. “If such a dire time comes, and absolutely no-one is there to take up the duty and lead the people in their despair, then I suppose I shall just have to return myself to see them through the darkness and set things right.” 

The king smiles and spreads his arms wide. “There you are. Happy now? Will you be able to sleep peacefully at night? Having you moan and groan and kick me awake is such a dratted nuisance.” 

Merlin will not be distracted. “Was that your solemn promise, _High King_?”

“Oh, we're still completely serious, are we? I do promise, court sorcerer, and you may hold me to it in this life, and in the next, if that is within your powers. But it won't ever come to that. Albion will foster good men and women to stand proudly in my place and to rule this realm justly and well. I have faith in my people.”

Merlin bows low, his slender hands hidden within the sweeping sleeves of his blue robe. He closes his eyes, and for a moment his whole body trembles.

“Your promise has been made, King Arthur, and the fates have accepted it,” he says, his voice suddenly deep and heavy with the weight of prophecy. He draws a breath. “As it is hereby foretold, so shall it be.”

Merlin's eyes glow golden for a moment, brightly enough to rival the setting sun.

“It won't ever come to that,” Arthur repeats stubbornly. 

Gwen shudders slightly at his side.

“Let us hope not,” Merlin says evenly. “We shall see.”

“Always with the doom and gloom, and on such a glorious day too! Don't be such a girl, Merlin! Cheer up!”

“Someone has to think ahead and face reality. I don't even need the gift of Sight to know that you will not always...”

“Idiot!”

“Dollophead!”

For all her regal composure, Gwen is not above rolling her eyes at them. “I honestly think it is time to invent new insults. Will you two _ever_ grow completely up?”

“God, I hope not,” Arthur laughs.

“Never, if prophecy is anything to go by,” Merlin murmurs cryptically. His irises seem to glow golden once more. But perhaps it is only the amber sunlight that sets his eyes on fire.

**The End**


End file.
